


Terrible Things Happen

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Read My Lips [46]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 12:17:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6518983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: <i>Stargate Atlantis, Rodney McKay, His staff find him even scarier when he's in a good mood</i>. Zelenka calls Evan to the rescue once again. Set season 5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrible Things Happen

Evan was just getting to the good part of his book when the radio beside his bed sounded.  
  
“Major Lorne?” It was Zelenka. He never called on a designated Sunday unless it was some kind of John-related emergency.  
  
Evan scooped up his earpiece. “Go for Lorne.”  
  
“Please come to the lab. Immediately.” Zelenka’s voice was low, soft, like he was hiding and didn’t want to be discovered.  
  
“I’ll be right there.”  
  
Evan set his book aside, toed on his shoes, grabbed his side-arm, and headed for the door. He was down the hall to the transporter and to the lab in under three minutes. The lab was quiet. Too quiet.  
  
Except for...humming.  
  
Evan peered around the corner, sidearm at the ready.  
  
“What?”  
  
All of the scientists were literally cowering under their desks, watching with wide eyes as Rodney...designed a ferris wheel on one of the whiteboards?  
  
Rodney was humming and smiling and scribbling preliminary calculations around the outside of the ferris wheel.  
  
“Is everything all right?” Evan asked.  
  
Rodney turned to him, blinked. “Yes, of course. Isn’t today your Sunday?”  
  
“Yes. Isn’t it yours?”  
  
“It is. I just needed some space to work on a personal project.”  
  
“A personal project?” Evan echoed. He scanned the room and spotted tufts of Zelenka’s hair over the edge of one of the lab benches.  
  
“A wedding present. For John. When we go on annual leave this year we’re getting married. You’re invited, of course. Jeannie’s helping me with invitations and other formalities,” Rodney said, and kept on humming and drawing. He promptly forgot Evan’s existence.  
  
John was nowhere in sight. Evan skirted around the benches and hunkered down next to Zelenka.  
  
“What’s going on? Why are you all hiding?”  
  
“Have you seen him?” Zelenka hissed, jabbing a finger in the direction of Rodney’s humming. “His smile? It is terrifying.”  
  
“Why? He’s happy.”  
  
“About what?”  
  
“About marrying John, obviously.”  
  
“No, you do not understand,” Zelenka said. “This is dangerous. Very dangerous. When Rodney is this happy, terrible things happen --”  
  
“All right, everyone, gather around. I have an idea,” Rodney said, grandiose and pleased.  
  
The scientists peeked over the edges of the tables and benches.  
  
“It starts,” Rodney said, “with a naquadriah generator,” and suddenly Evan understood why they were all so, so scared.


End file.
